


Remember The Time

by shaenanigans



Series: Hao Ting/Xi Gu Second Chances [3]
Category: HIStory3: 那一天 | HIStory3: Make Our Days Count
Genre: 2 year time skip, Comatose, Falling Inlove All Over Again, Ghosts, Hao Ting was sent to the US, Happy Ending, He's In A Coma Between Life and Death, Kind of a Ghost But Not Really Yu Xi Gu, M/M, Memory Loss, Mentions of Suicide Attempt, Reunions, not really MCD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:00:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22449085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaenanigans/pseuds/shaenanigans
Summary: Xiang Hao Ting doesn't remember anything about his past. He's been seeing ghosts since his earliest memory at eighteen. One day he sees a boy cross an intersection in a rush and manages to save him before he gets hit by a speeding bus.
Relationships: Xiang Hao Ting/Yu Xi Gu
Series: Hao Ting/Xi Gu Second Chances [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1708111
Comments: 37
Kudos: 71





	1. Prologue - Timeskip

**Author's Note:**

> This prompt has been in my head for a while now. Hopefully it doesn't disappoint.

**2 Years Later**

Xiang Hao Ting has been able to see ghosts for as long as he can remember. But since all he knows about his past started at age eighteen, he doesn't really know if he's always had the sight or the ability surfaced after a suicide attempt that he has no recollection of. He's read paranormal journals that dying could activate the gift or curse of communicating with the dead and reckons that his near demise is to blame. Not that it changes anything. Hao Ting has perfected ignoring wandering spirits down to an art form.

The family that's as foreign to him as the name he carries never talks about the past. The people he's told that are his friends are just as tight-lipped. Hao Ting doesn't remember anything before eighteen but knows enough that he'd been in a bad place mentally following a tragedy.

The facts are he tried to drown himself in the tub. His wrists were open and he swam in his own blood.

His heart stopped twice.

He'd woken up after a month long coma with retrograde amnesia, his brain's way of coping from whatever trauma he'd experienced. They had relatives in the States and he was sent abroad for therapy. Psychiatrists said staying in Taipei was a danger for him, that he could remember and spiral again. He had to be taken away from any possible triggers at least until he's somewhat in control.

Hao Ting stuck to the course that he'd gotten enrolled for in college before the memory loss. His mind may have no recollection of any interest in physics, but everytime he looked up at the night sky and saw the stars, his heart would skip a beat, reminding him that it was still there, and he'd get hit with the certainty that this was what he's always meant to do.

Hao Ting was surprised to learn that he was a bookworm. He liked the smell of paper, the scritch-scratch of a pen, the silence of a library. He didn't like mingling with the student population and focused on his studies with a single-mindedness bordering on obsession. He always had the need to excel, something unknown driving him to be the best in everything he did.

He's been back in Taipei for all of thirty six hours in a home that feels like a stranger's and he has no interest in leaving his room to make small talk.

His doctor had given his parents the go ahead for his return, at least for the winter break. He's going to be spending Christmas with them for the first time. Hao Ting can't shake off the feeling that he'd rather be somewhere else. To a place that he suspects only resides in his lost memories. He'd told his parents that he's ready to learn about the past, several hours after arrival. But they'd been terrified, acted like he was asking permission to swallow a bullet, and he hasn't dared open the topic again since.

He's dozing off when a knock rouses him and he turns to see his mother peering around the door, inviting him for breakfast. 

"Not hungry. Still jetlagged." He tells her and grabs a pillow to jam over his head, letting equations run in the background of his thoughts. The next time he opens his eyes, the clock reads 11:45 and his stomach growls in protest. He enters the living room and sees his mother in the kitchen cooking. His father's on the sofa watching a sports channel, a young boy slumped against him.

The eldest Xiang child, loved and adored until dying at age seven from an onset of pneumonia that he couldn't recover from.

Hao Ting tears his gaze away from the spirit who is as much of a stranger to him as the rest of this family. Hao Ting inspects the covered plate of food and is about to sit on the table when his mother takes notice of him and tells Hao Ting to please pass the salt.

The sun is blinding when he next becomes aware of his surroundings. Hao Ting shakes his head, hand coming up to massage the pain away as he slides down against some establishment's glass wall. Once he feels suitably recovered, he looks about him. 

He doesn't know where he is. 

Another blackout. He thought he was getting better. His psychiatrist said he had improved. But apparently not enough. There had been no pool of blood, no smell of iron in his nose. His two major triggers. He doesn't even know what caused the attack this time.

"Xiang Hao Ting?" 

He looks up to see a very attractive guy clad in an apron rushing towards him. The man stops a couple steps short in front of Hao Ting, hands firmly clasped by his sides like he's trying not reach out. He squints up at him. He looks vaguely familiar. "Do I know you?" 

Something he can't read flashes in the man's eyes and he slowly squats in front of him. His voice is very gentle when he speaks and Hao Ting can see the wetness accumulating in the other's eyes. "Yes. It's me. Lu Zhi Gang. Zhi Gang-Ge. You used to frequent my shop."

Hao Ting stares at him then turns to look inside the glass walls. "Milk tea shop?" He didn't think he was into sweet drinks. 

The man, Zhi Gang nods. "Yes. I own the place." 

"Sorry." He says as he turns back to him. "I don't remember."

"I know." Zhi Gang says with a shaky exhale. His eyes are getting red. "Would you... please come inside. Why don't you have a coat on? You're going to catch a cold." He quickly takes off his jacket to put around Hao Ting's shoulders. He's pulled gently to his feet, Zhi Gang's hand closing around his own to rub heat back into his fingers. "Let's get something hot in you, okay? You're freezing."

Hao Ting doesn't really feel the cold. It's like his skin receptors are numb to the atrocities of the temperature changes. He doesn't feel much of anything. His chest feels hollow, like his heart is missing. Like he's dead and yet still walking around, body never getting the memo.

Maybe that's why he's able to see ghosts. He has more in common with the deceased than the living ones around him.

"I don't have any money with me."

Zhi Gang shakes his head, fingers resting on the small of his back as he's gently pushed towards the shop doors. "Dont worry about it. It's on the house. I haven't seen you in a long time since the... hospitalization." He smiles, sadness in the curve of his lips as he loops his arms around Hao Ting. "We can catch up. Tell me what you've been up to in the States. A'Xiang wouldn't tell me anything."

He knows about Hao Ting, and Sun Bo Xiang, but Hao Ting doesn't know anything about him. He doesn't remember him getting introduced to Hao Ting that first week after he woke up with nothing. He acts easy and familiar with him, indicating that they were on good terms as friends. He even knows about the hospitalization, the trip abroad, but how come Hao Ting didn't know he existed until now?

It gets him thinking. Is Lu Zhi Gang part of the past that everyone around Hao Ting seems adamant to stay forgotten?


	2. It's A Pleasure To Meet You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday to our bestest brightest boy Huang Chunchih!!! 🎁🎊💐🍰🎈😍😘🎂 WE LOVE YOU SO MUCH BAOBEI! 
> 
> Unbeta'd so any mistakes are my own.

Hao Ting thought he's going to get answers, but like everyone else, Lu Zhi Gang isn't forthcoming with information. He asks about his life in America, his plans for the future, even talks about Sun Bo Xiang and his friends; anything and everything but Hao Ting's past. 

Discerning that the conversation is not going where he wants, Hao Ting rises from his seat, thanks Zhi Gang for the drink and shrugs off his offered jacket. "I have to go." 

"Do you want me to call your parents?" Zhi Gang asks. Ah, so he is in contact with his family. Hao Ting won't be surprised if he has some kind of gag order disallowing him to reveal anything in the case they crossed paths. The dodgy way he kept steering the conversation towards the future makes sense now. "Or I can give you a ride?"

Hao Ting shakes his head. There isn't anyone else manning the shop and he doesn't want to impose more than he already did. "I'll walk." He doesn't know the way home but what Zhi Gang knows not won't hurt him. He couldn't be honest with him so Hao Ting lumps him in the same category as everyone else. People he can't trust. "I'm sorry for wasting your time." 

"It wasn't a waste at all." Zhi Gang stands as well. He looks indecisive for a moment before he rounds the small table and pulls Hao Ting into a tight hug. "It was nice seeing you again."

He wishes he can say the same, but since he doesn't remember the guy, he settles for a silent nod as his reply. Posture stiff, Hao Ting forces himself to relax and return the embrace. 

He's about to exit the entrance when he hears music and sees Zhi Gang take out his phone. 

"Mr. Xiang." He greets the caller. Zhi Gang turns toward him, their eyes meeting across the shop's minimal space. "Yes, he's here. Let me get him for you." Hao Ting's not ready to go home and face the strangers claiming to be his family yet. Zhi Gang calls out his name and Hao Ting doesn't think twice to beat a hasty retreat. 

He doesn't stop running until his lungs threaten to give out. Hao Ting collapses by the side road close to an intersection and spends the next several seconds catching his breath on a stone bench. 

He looks about him once he's no longer gasping for air and realizes there's not a single infrastructure or a face of a passerby that's familiar. It doesn't take a genius to conclude that he's lost.

Air blows cold on his heated skin. Hao Ting drags a hand down his sweaty face and neck and crosses his legs. He doesn't have a watch or his phone but he surmises it's a little over noon. He's thankful for the shade of the tree protecting him from the sun's rays. 

His family's probably worried where he'd gone off to. 

The house felt suffocating since he landed. Even without the blackout, he had fully intended to leave, take some time for himself well away outside of those four walls. They had been all over him, Ma, Pa and Meimei, with their gentle eyes and even softer voices, walking on eggshells from the moment he arrived and he resented being treated as fragile and breakable. 

Then again, can he fault them? He hasn't exactly been warm and fuzzy or welcoming. Ironic, considering he was apparently a ball of sunshine frequently compared to an overly-affectionate canine before his attempted suicide. 

If he didn't develop retrograde amnesia, and forgot what caused him to do something so drastic, he probably would've made another attempt on his life. He already doesn't have much will to live to start with. Nothing excites or saddens him, or brings him joy. Nothing but a maintained level of indifference that only ever marginally progresses to a paltry sense of contentment when he's immersed in his studies of the galaxy. 

His family's just being careful, trying to avoid saying something about the past and triggering him. _Let nature take its course. He'll remember when he's ready. Doctor's strict orders._ Hao Ting should feel touched. But he doesn't. 

The truth won't break him, he often tells himself, aggrieved that no one thinks he can accept what happened without spiraling into another suicidal mindset. He could seriously try prying into his past but he guessed a part of him had always been worried of what he'd find. 

Ignorance is bliss after all.

With nothing better to do, Hao Ting passes the time by observing his immediate surroundings. 

He can't fake interest to save his life. 

Aside from his studies of trying to figure out the universe's inner workings, nothing else ever caught his attention or made an impression. He doesn't have favorites. No personal preference for clothes to wear or things to use or food to eat. On an objective standpoint, Hao Ting knows he's easy on the eyes. He's received a few love confessions in the past two years but found the experience frivolous and entirely pointless. 

People as a whole are pests that could crowd into his space that he wants nothing to do with. 

Minutes pass until he contemplates dialing his phone; see if his parents found his mobile beneath the blankets and pick up the call. He might not feel anything filial for them, but he should probably let them know he's not dying in a ditch somewhere. Contrary to popular belief, he's not made of stone and capable of showing basic courtesy from one human to another. 

Decision made, he sets out to find a phone booth, wonders if those things still exist in Taipei. If that fails, then he'll try to borrow someone's mobile, or just walk until his parents find him.

Hao Ting rises to his feet and sways. He lands back on his butt, one hand over his head, stomach walls clenching. Right. He hasn't eaten yet. He could normally go for long periods without food. But he didn't have anything before boarding the plane and had slept through the whole trip. His last meal was two and a half days ago. He wishes he didn't need food to function. He can't taste anything anyway. But his body always inevitably protested, reminding him that he's still alive. Which it did earlier, but he blacked out. He'd also only taken two small sips of the hot drink Zhi Gang offered. 

Dizzy spell averted, he briefly pats his pockets and finds his wallet, sighing when there are only green dollar bills. Fortunately, there's a money changer at the opposite road. He'll go get his needed currency and set out for the nearest 7-Eleven or some local restaurant next. 

He's standing by the intersection, waiting for the green light to turn red when he spots someone on the other side that makes him freeze; short, skinny, pale and practically drowning in a baggy white T-shirt. 

The boy is looking straight at him, pretty face tilting curiously and Hao Ting's eyes burn, hot tears falling over his cheeks without his control, equal parts confusion and stark clarity of what, he doesn't know, war within him.

Hao Ting clutches his chest as harsh, painful gasps rush out his lungs. His heart is suddenly pounding wildly against his ribcage, as if it wants to break out. He's rapidly losing air, ears ringing, like a bomb had gone off directly next to him as myriad of images, too fast to make sense of or really see, dizzyingly flash through his thoughts.

The traffic light changes to red. 

The boy crosses the street in a hurry, eyes trained on his watch. The ringing in his ears stop and he hears the loud revving of an engine. Hao Ting turns to the direction of the sound, and the moment he does, he sees the bus, as if in a dream, speeding towards the pedestrian crossing with no hint of slowing down. 

Sheer terror that he's never felt before grip every fiber of his being, screaming despairingly at him that he has to save the boy at all cost. Hao Ting's sprinting towards the young stranger before he could fully comprehend what he's doing.

"Watch out!" Fingers connect with thin shoulders and Hao Ting grabs, pulls the boy against his chest. Something hits him square on the back and the world blurs and spins. He tumbles across asphalt, curled protectively around the body in his arms.

Hao Ting opens his eyes as soon as he realizes they've stopped rolling. He pulls back slowly, pain somewhere in his body practically stabbing him blind, but he grits his teeth through the agony to look at the boy beneath him, brown gaze roving his small frame for any injuries. "Are you okay?"

"You can see me?" The way his eyes are wide as dinner plates has Hao Ting blinking.

"Of course I can see you." Hao Ting frowns. Did the boy hit his head? He makes to reach for the other's hair to inspect any scrapes or bumps when delicate fingers shakily reach up to cup his face, thumb smoothing over his cheekbone. 

"I can touch you." He says, sounding positively awed. "How...? Oh my God, you're bleeding." The boy's fingers graze his hairline and he winces at the sudden touch. He reaches up himself and is next looking down, staring at the blood coating his fingers as he feels something sticky and wet trickle down his forehead. "I didn't get you killed, did I?"

Get him killed? Hao Ting doesn't think so? He flexes his fingers and the pain shoots up his arm making him hiss. He's pretty sure he dislocated a finger and something along his thigh is really starting to hurt like hell too. "I'm fine." He lies. Not entirely. The question was if he got him killed and he's pretty sure he's still alive with how much pain he's feeling right now. His head in particular.

"Are you okay?" 

"You shouldn't be moving around."

"Somebody call 119."

"Who is he talking to?" 

"His head's bleeding. Must have knocked something loose."

"Does anyone know first aid?"

Hao Ting looks up and realizes then that a crowd has gathered around him. Nausea rushes up his throat at the number of people invading his space. He sags sideways and dry heaves pathetically on the ground. 

He feels a hand rub along his back, a familiar touch that he can't place and he jolts, glancing to the side only to see the close-up features of the boy he saved. Hao Ting looks, really looks, but before he can finish any thought, everything darkens and he passes out.

* * *

  
_Gaze fixed at his window, guilt churns unpleasantly in his chest along with a firm resolve to make things right. He's been losing sleep over acting like a complete jerk and thoughts of him has been filling his every waking moment and well into his dreams._

_He needs to apologize. Take responsibility. Show that he never meant to hurt him. With a nod and a breath as he resolutely watches the apartment entrance, he takes one step, two step, but then he sees him coming out in a hurry and quickly scrambles to duck and hide behind someone's parked motorbike like the giant coward that he is._

_He holds up a hesitant hand as he nears. "H-Hi..." He tries for a greeting only to be completely ignored. He sighs, murmurs morosely under his breath. "Why are you walking so fast. How am I supposed to pretend to meet you by coincidence."_

_He pinches his cheeks, slaps himself repeatedly in an effort to collect his bearings. He can do this. Just one hello, and he can go from there. That's the big first step. With renewed resolve, he slinks after him, feeling a lot like a stalker, but not about to let his brother's words get in the way of his goal._

_He sees the speeding motorcycle and his heart jumps erratically in his chest. His legs move as if it had a mind of its own as he quickly rushes to pull him back from the road. The vehicle barely misses them. He stares incensed at the driver's back. He wants to yell, shout, demand an apology for nearly running them over but getting angry isn't going to do them any good. Instead, he looks down at him, stark relief washing over his whole being. He's fine. He's unharmed and that's all that matters. They gaze into each other's eyes and something like warmth and contentment settles in his chest, but then he jerks back in his embrace and pushes him off. He gulps nervously._

_"What are you doing here?" For all that it comes off as a question, it sounds every bit an accusation._

_"I..." Think. Think. Think. "Passing by." He swallows again, feeling sick to his stomach, heart beating so fast he feels lightheaded. The sun is hitting his silhouette just right and he's so beautiful, like an angel, that he feels like his knees are about to give out in his presence. Before he can make a complete fool of himself, he runs with his tail between his legs until he can no longer take one more step and he ends up slumped against the wall of a back alley, breathless and mentally kicking himself over and over again._

_"What was I thinking? Passing by? Am I stupid?" God, that was a total disaster. He must think that he wasn't only a jerk, a stalker, but also a loser now. Awesome. "What a lousy excuse."_

"What's a lousy excuse?"

The voice seeps into his consciousness and Hao Ting startles awake with a jolt to the image of a white ceiling with equally white walls. He blinks, trying to fight the fog of sleep as he rubs the drowsiness from his eyes. He gingerly pulls himself upright but then the room spins.

A firm hand presses against his chest to support him before he can topple over. "Don't move. You're hurt." Hao Ting takes in the sight of thin wrists and thin forearms, until he sees the white shirt, pale, graceful neck and a smiling pretty face.

"You're..." The boy he helped. Everything rushes back to him and Hao Ting quickly looks him over, asking if he's alright. Is he hurting anywhere? Shouldn't he be lying down to rest?

"I'm okay." He chuckles, soft and light, as he carefully pushes him down on his back. "Thank you for what you did. I feel bad that you got hurt because of me."

"You were in danger. I just did what anyone..."

He smiles and Hao Ting stares, gaze drawn to the beautiful curve of his lips. This close, he can't help wonder what it would feel like to kiss him. Hao Ting's pretty sure he's loosing his mind. Or he's hopped up on the really good kind of painkillers.

"Ge? You're awake!" His younger sister dashes in and is instantly hugging him tightly. Hao Ting groans, sore ribs creaking from the contact. She pulls back, tears in her eyes. "I'm going to get Mommy. Daddy's at home. I'll call him too! I'm so glad you're okay." She sniffs and rushes back to the door. "Don't scare us like that again! I'm never talking to you anymore if you do." 

Why does it feel like he just got hit by a hurricane?

"Your younger sister has been watching you all night. She was very worried. Your parents too actually. Especially your mom." The boy says as soon as she's out of the room. "Seems they were strongly under the impression that you ran towards the bus on purpose."

That has Hao Ting blinking back towards the boy. Aside from feeling an inkling of guilt of putting his family through that level of worry, especially with his suicidal history, he can't bring himself to regret what he'd done. The boy is in front of him, looking very much alive and that's all he cares about.

"How long have you been here?" He asks, bewildered about how he could easily be in his hospital room or how his family could have left him with a stranger. He should also probably ask for his name. He can't just keep calling him _boy_ in his head, can he?

"I've been by your side since the ambulance." He says and adds, smiling widely. "I don't remember my name. But the other ghosts call me Xiao Xing because I have an unhealthy obsession with the stars. It's a pleasure to meet you, Xiang Hao Ting."

Hao Ting stills. He's pretty sure that he heard that wrong. Because he knows what ghosts look like, and the boy in front of him appears anything but dead. He's also corporeal. Hao Ting touched him and he was able to touch him in return and spirits generally don't have that ability.

"You look shocked. I was too!" Hao Ting's slack grip is held in between two hands as the boy leans closer, dark eyes practically gleaming with barely contained excitement. "Very few humans could see us. Being able to touch the living is out of the question. Even strong shamans have to concentrate very hard to allow us to make physical contact and it's not sustainable for more than thirty seconds." He sits on Hao Ting's bedside, peers even closer into his personal space. And oddly enough, Hao Ting doesn't mind.

"This is amazing, isn't it? I can't wait to hear what you have to say about what's happening to us. There has to be a reason we met!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you still remmebr this fic. Lol. I started this a while back but I'm finally updating picking it up and hopefully will be able to update regularly.

**Author's Note:**

> What did you guys think? Like it? Don't like it? Dx  
> If you enjoyed this bit, feel free to leave a comment. It makes my week! And feeds my broken XiangGu heart. 💔


End file.
